


Like You Like This

by LadyAmalthea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Love, Misunderstandings, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmalthea/pseuds/LadyAmalthea
Summary: The nature of what Connor feels for Hank is, apparently, not how others might think.





	Like You Like This

_ June 19 2039 _

 

Connor has known he has been in love with Hank for one hundred and fifty-two days, six hours, and ten minutes.

 

But he can't tell him today, of all days.

 

Because its Father's Day.

  
  


Hank had worked hard to get sober and clean up since Connor moved in, and this morning he had made the effort to go visit Cole's headstone for the first time in over a year.

 

It was something worth commemorating, in Connor's opinion, so he had gotten some cash out to get Hank pizza for dinner. It wasn't any sort of grand gesture, but he hoped it would do… something?

 

The house was fairly clean, so Connor was just working on a puzzle when he received a call from Markus.

 

"Oh, good afternoon. Are you well?"

 

_ "Hey, Connor! I'm good… I wanted to ask of you and Hank were doing anything this afternoon?" _

 

Connor was a tad surprised, "Nothing in particular. Is everything all right?"

 

_ "Of course! I was just wondering if you and Hank would like to come over and have dinner with Carl and I. It is Father's Day, after all." _

 

There was a pause, long and void.

 

_ "Connor?" _

 

"Sorry, I-" 

 

This was so embarrassing.

 

"Markus… that's not how I, uh, feel about Hank."

 

Another pause. 

 

_ "Oh. OH, Connor I didn't-" _

 

"Don't, it's fine. Really!"

 

The deviant leader seemed to be just as flustered, " _ I'm very sorry for assuming, just with Hank being older, and…" _

 

A flash of something burned in Connor's chest, "Did you know that Hank had a son who passed away a few years ago?"

 

_ "... No, I didn't." _

 

"In a car accident. He would only be nine years old now."

 

Another pause, and Connor felt a tinge of regret for being so callous with that information. 

 

"Anyway, I hope you have a lovely day with Carl. Take care." 

 

He felt a bit of satisfaction by telling Markus off, almost relieving if it wasn't so uncomfortable. 

 

Did… did the others see them that way? Did their co-workers? 

 

When he tried to think harder on it, there was the sound of Hank's car pulling sideways into the driveway, brakes squealing loudly. Sumo boofed, getting up from his dog bed and going straight for the door to greet his owner. He stood up too, offering a soft, sincere smile.

 

The door gave a metallic squeak at the hinges as it swung open, revealing his partner. "Welcome home, Hank."

 

The man bent over to give the dog a pat before even hanging up his keys on the hook. "Hey," he said, his half-formed smile not really lasting through the greeting.

 

As Hank began to settle into the couch, and Connor nervously pulled the folded takeout menu from his pocket. "I was wondering if you would like to order in tonight?"

 

"Uhhh…" Hank gave him a look, unsure. "Did you break another window?"

 

Connor's eyes went wide, sitting down beside him. "N-no! No, I didn't, I just-"

 

"You really don't need to, I can handle it."

 

The android took a steadying breath, "I would like to. This afternoon must have been difficult, but it really shows that you're healing," he explained gently.

 

"It's not 'cuz you- never mind…" Hank said, turning to the menu. 

 

Connor heard, though. "It's not because I… what?"

 

" _ Fuck _ ." 

 

The lieutenant stood up, and Connor knew he was going for the bottle of whiskey.

 

"Because what, Hank?"

 

Liquid sloshed in the bottle with the clink of glass on the counter, and he took a glass from the drying rack.

 

"Hank!" Connor stood up, frustration building in his tone. "After all we have been through, all these months, you know you can tell me anything. Don't you?"

 

An exasperated curse came under Hank's breath as he started to unscrew the cap, stopping before it was off. 

 

Connor pleaded more softly, "Please. Please, I'd like to know."

 

Hank hung his head, staring at the whiskey with his mouth hanging open. He reached for it, deciding slowly, before pushing it toward the back of the counter. "I really don't… I really don't think you do."

 

"I might, though?" 

 

He turned around, eyes stinging with redness and his fingers gripping the cabinets behind him. "And it wouldn't… you won't leave? Even if-"

 

"Hank." Connor had gotten closer, fists clenched. "I have something to tell you."

 

The man panted, eyeing his partner. His friend. "Okay."

 

"Earlier… Markus called, inviting us to have dinner with him and Carl." He got a small nod in understanding, and shut his eyes.. "It was because it was Father's Day, and that isn't how I … how I think of you." He let out a shuddering breath, peaking them open to see Hank's reaction. 

 

Hank sagged in visible relief.

 

"Is that okay?" Connor asked.

 

"Yeah," Hank smiled, dragging a hand over his face. "Fuck, of course." He nodded, drifting steps closer to Connor. 

 

And, Connor noted, further from the liquor. 

 

"You are your own person, and an adult," he said. "And a good friend."

 

At that, Connor's pump hitched, just as they leaned in for a hug. Close, warm. Connor had to keep going.

 

"What if I… liked you more than just a friend?" 

 

Hank hummed in his ear, "Uh-h-huh?"

 

Tight in each other's arms, Connor turned his head just enough to place his lips on the edge of Hank's jaw, feeling his wiry beard.

 

"What if I liked you like that?"

 

He became nervous when Hank eased away, but it was instantly soothed by lips and… a tongue. Right on his mouth. 

 

_ Oh OH!  _

 

Connor's body circuited a wave of sparks, up and down, resting around his pump where it fizzed and spiraled. 

 

Unfocused, and no data to work with, he tried to purse his lips to reciprocate. He felt Hank smile into it.

 

"Easy there," Hank assured him, brushing back Connor's hair, lifting his chin with a finger. He kissed him again; gentler, letting Connor take a moment to analyze and adjust. "That's it, that's good."

 

The praise went right to Connor's core, and he made a small, happy noise as they continued.

 

It's nice, comfortable. Connor no longer feels like some machine made to hunt and analyze, at least not deviants. 

 

He liked it.

  
  
  
  



End file.
